


Melt

by Pennyplainknits



Category: Psych
Genre: Community: cliche_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-08
Updated: 2010-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-06 00:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennyplainknits/pseuds/Pennyplainknits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hot, and Shawn needs to cool down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melt

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 'Heat' square of my cliche bingo card. Beta by [](http://debris-k.livejournal.com/profile)[**debris_k**](http://debris-k.livejournal.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> **Disclaimer:** psych created by Steve Franks. This is a work of transformative fiction and no infringement is intended

Shawn held the cold can of coke against his head and rolled it back and forth. It was hot. Really hot. Middle-of-a-volcano hot. His shirt clung to him, damp and sticky, and despite having all the windows open there wasn't even a suggestion of a breeze.

"Feeling a bit warm, Shawn?" Gus asked, sounding amused.

"Why can't we repair the air con, Gus?" Shawn asked plaintively. It had gotten broken two days ago in a tragic office tennis accident, just in time for the hottest week Santa Barbara had seen in years.

"Because, Shawn," Gus said, sounding irritatingly chipper – and how come he wasn't even sweating? "After the ball pit disaster we agreed to a two month moratorium on office spending."

"I remember no such thing," Shawn protested, but Gus just went to his locker and pulled out the agreement.

"Damn, I signed it with my real name?" Shawn said. "I must be slipping."

"You were distracted. Stay cool," Gus smirked, slapping him on the back. "I'm off to my real office, you know, the one with central air?"

Shawn glared after him.

***

Day Three P.A.C. (post air conditioning) was just as hot, the sun beating down unmercilessly and making the air shimmer. Shawn's sweaty hands kept slipping on things – it screwed up his trashcan basketball game beyond belief.

Gus turned up around midday, dressed as usual in his neatly pressed pants and crisp lilac shirt.

"How are you not even sweating?" Shawn asked petulantly, feeling sweat trickle down his neck.

"It's not that hot in my office. And my car has air conditioning," Gus pointed out, sounding smug.

***

The next day Shawn stole Gus's car keys while he was getting a second bowl of Cap'n Crunch and set up office in his car.

"Shawn, what the hell are you doing?" Gus asked, poking his head through the window and raising his voice over the sound of the engine.

"Shhhh, Gus, I'm with a client," Shawn said, turning his attention back to the woman standing on the sidewalk.

"And your poodle is called... Fifi?" He hazarded, putting his hand to his temple.

"Fellini," she said.

"Ah, yes, Fellini. Sorry, it's the accent," Shawn said, without missing a beat. "Well, I can sense she's close, she's safe, and my associate and I will track her down. Let me just get my computer from the other office," he leaned over and snagged the laptop from the back seat, "and I'll take down your details."

"Shawn, get out of the car," Gus ordered as soon as the client was gone.

"No, it's too hot in the office," Shawn said, basking in the blessed cool of the Toyota's interior.

Gus stuck his whole upper body into the window and felt around in Shawn's pocket until he came up with his wallet.

"I'm taking this for the gas you wasted," he said, extracting a fifty.

"Gus, you touched me in my naughty place," Shawn said, wriggling happily.

"And turn the engine off. Did you even _consider_ the carbon emissions? Think of the penguins, Shawn!"

Shawn rolled his eyes, but he and the penguins had always been pretty tight, so he switched it off.

"Fine," he said, peeling off his sweat soaked shirt. "But just for that, I'm declaring today shirt-free Friday."

"It's Thursday." Gus reminded him.

***

Friday, Shawn rounded up every fan he could find in his apartment, Gus's place, and his Dad's garage, and set them all going at once. It was a little like working in the middle of a small hurricane, but at least it made the office a bit cooler.

"What's this?" Jules asked, peering around the biggest fan. The crosswinds caught her hair and whipped it around her head. She looked like an extra in an 80s power ballad video. Lassie kept having to tuck his tie back into place, scowling the whole time.

"Gus is punishing me!" Shawn said dramatically.

"No, I'm not," Gus remarked from the corner, where he was failing to melt into a puddle of Gusness.

The case was an easy one, but Shawn had _Total Eclipse of the Heart _ running though his head all day.

***

Saturday and Sunday Shawn spent in his blissfully cool apartment, hugging his air conditioner and lying under wet towels like an overheated greyhound. Gus came over, but it was too hot to even think about doing anything energetic.

***

"Please, Gus," Shawn begged on Monday morning. "Come on, can we just get the air conditioning fixed? Aren't you hot?"

"No, not really," Gus said, licking his ice cream.

Shawn took in his neat blue shirt and pressed khakis.

"You're not, are you? Did you get replaced by lizard-Gus that time I was in Mexico?"

"I don't run about as much as you do," Gus said, unperturbed by accusations of lizardarity. "Plus, I have delicious pineapple twist ice cream." He took another long lick, and followed it up with a satisfied "Mmmm, mmmm."

"Great, give me some," Shawn said, leaning forward.

"No!" Gus jerked his hand back.

"Just one lick!" Shawn said, pulling Gus to him.

"This was the last scoop!" Gus said, eyes flicking from the melty ice cream to Shawn and back again.

"Then we should share," Shawn said, sensing a weakness.

Gus huffed a sigh, and Shawn thought he was about to say no, but he just licked the ice cream once again, and pressed his mouth to Shawn's.

Shawn opened his mouth for a cool, pineapple-y kiss.

"You know," he said, drawing back and licking the ice cream himself this time, "if we fixed the air in here we could make out in the office without overheating."

"Nice try, Shawn," Gus said. "But my place has air conditioning." He got up and picked up his car keys.

It was worth a try.

"Well," Gus said, "You coming?"

Shawn jumped to his feet.

"Lead on," he said, trailing behind Gus, already planning five different ways to make Gus _finally_ sweat.


End file.
